


Sooner or later God'll cut you down

by Mirdala



Series: Blackwatch Week 2018 [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch, Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Blackwatch Week, Blackwatch Week 2018, Day 1, POV Second Person, Possibly AU, late and a dollar short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 06:58:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14995328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirdala/pseuds/Mirdala
Summary: Blackwatch Week Day OnePlan A/Plan BOne night changed everything. From Plan A to Plan B. Venice changed everything.





	Sooner or later God'll cut you down

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to catch up!!! Super late. May have written this instead of actually working.....
> 
> Title pulled from God's Gonna Cut You Down by Johnny Cash.

It’s a joke in Blackwatch that Overwatch’s Plan B is Blackwatch’s Plan A. One of your favorite jokes Jesse McCree, isn’t that right? And you take pride in that. Even the heroes need heroes. But Blackwatch only had one true capital H hero. You know _you_ aren’t one, don’t you McCree? Makes it all the sweeter to you. Ironic. Gives you and the rest of Blackwatch a good laugh. A healthy rivalry and respect for each other. Of course, you know Plan B for Blackwatch wasn’t some rare thing or a failure on your part. It’s a hard truth you always hear Reyes spouting. No plan survives enemy contact. Period. But the next plan in line, be it Plan B, C, all the way to Z and into the realms of FUBAR, always had Blackwatch, had you, getting through to the other side. This time though…this time Plan B had repercussions that even you wouldn’t have expected.

Plan A was to do what Overwatch couldn’t. Had you posing as a waiter. But you’re mostly sure it was for Reyes and the rest of the team to get a laugh at your expense. You went along with the snatch and grab. Even though you didn’t like it. You wanted blood. Your old roots sprouting buds of wrath in your heart, fed by your grief. You wanted retaliation. Quick and severe. For the attack on the people who had become your family for the past decade. People who you fight beside and who strived to make the world a better place in any way they knew how. But you were talked down, told to simmer. Plan A was to end with justice. It might not have been the type of justice you wanted. The justice you wanted dealt was one of your own fashion. You knew, didn’t you McCree, there were no systems in civilized society that could properly afford justice those you and Reyes couldn’t pull from the burning building. Plan A involved level heads. To disregard the flashes of coffins draped in flags in your mind. The singed edges of the black fabric wrapped around your shoulders, the edge of the hat on your head. To ignore a small comment on the walk to the transport from Moira. A comment about futility. And you did. You managed to brood enroute to get it out of your system and start the mission following every letter in it. Everything changed with the bitter words spoken that night. A sharp serrated honesty that shredded your resolve.  It was just as you had thought and argued, these actions were meaningless in the bigger picture.

Plan A exploded with a single shot. Died with the target.

Plan B has the team fighting for their lives. Snapping at each other. Being overrun with enemies. Nearly not making it out. The mission ends with carefully worded debriefs. Recounts having just the right amount of sass from Fio, darkness from Genji, pretentiousness from Moira, and anger from you, allows Reyes to smoothly step in front of the shit storm of accusations and reprimands. Because you know Reyes would be damned if any one of his agents took any of the backlash for a mission going south. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s done it. Later one night over drinks he’ll tell you not to worry, what’s the worse they could do, take away his birthday? Don’t you know who he is? He is Gabriel fucking Reyes, Savoir of Humanity. You laugh with Reyes as he shakes your shoulder and try to let the plan unfold. A plan you try to have faith in.

Believe in.

Plan B it turns out has the train jumping tracks, leading to the destruction of everything you love McCree. A squirming nervousness you can’t shake forms once jolted with the realization of impending doom. You watch as everything you’ve help build begins to derail. A darkness seeps into Blackwatch. your smoking habit goes up a notch when all Blackwatch acticites are suspended and an investigation is started. Looking into all the things Overwatch couldn’t do, wouldn’t do. Maybe it was finally time for you to bite the bullet. Your luck was going to run out sooner or later. You almost do but Reyes stops you. It’s better this way, he assures you. Just follow the plan. Reminds you that you’ve been doing dirty work all your life. That you did what you had to, to keep yourself out of an eight by twelve-foot cement box with bars on one side. And now it would be a life sentence for sure.

You can’t help but think maybe this time you aren’t worth the trouble since you see Reyes being ground into dust under the weight shoveled onto him. The cracks behind his jokes and shrugs. The rifts between him and the old guard growing. He shoulders it all and you shoulder none of it. You deal with the helplessness choking you with bottles of whiskey even to this day over a decade later. You stay by Reyes’ side until you can’t anymore. Try to maneuver into place to alleviate the burden placed on Reyes. To be grateful for what you have. For the bullets taken for you by someone else. The work you do in London is bittersweet. A last good deed. But when you see the coming wreckage down the line, with no way to stop it, the same instinct that made you take Reyes’ offer without any hesitation tells you to survive.

You run.

Without a word to anyone. Shame and survival driving you away. Your own personal Plan B. You check your comm only once. _Ingrate_. The singular message received. Guilt gnaws at your guts and bones, down into your soul. Wounds are torn open then fester when you see what has happened to your family. When the news of the explosion reaches your ears. When you give a solemn toast to a headstone in Los Angeles.  Bloomington. Egypt. Those you care about the most gone. Your mind runs it over and over. A loop that never slows. You work backwards. You could have stayed. You could have done something. Saved someone. You could have, you know you could have Jesse. Which is possibly the most painful bit of knowledge you’ll carry with you as you walk across these lands. Every night you’ll eventually reach far enough back to a single night. Where Plan A turned into Plan B.  Your fate being set in stone by a single shot.

From your revolver.

**Author's Note:**

> Had this in mind when Retribution came out. All I could think was that they were lying in their debriefs. Vague and covering something up. I decided it was Jesse breaking ranks and shooting instead of Reyes due to his anger in the comics and how his 180 attitude flip didn't sit right with me. Thought it would be an interesting explanation.


End file.
